Gemotions

The familiar wallpaper in her childhood bedroom felt oppressive, the floral pattern mocking her. Empty. This was it. She closed the door, the click echoing in the silence. It wasn’t a home anymore, just a mausoleum of memories.

She sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress sagging beneath her weight. A tremor ran through her. Her breath hitched. The walls seemed to be closing in.

Her mother's shadow fell across the doorway. “Are you alright, dear? You look pale.” Her mother’s voice was full of concern, and it felt like a heavy weight.